The Swan Boy and His Prince
by TheRainLover
Summary: Kurt Hummel is starring in Rachel's ballet production, a new, original rendition of Swan Lake, as The Swan. The prince will be the one who will save Kurt from himself and the sadness he was slowly sinking into. This prince was Blaine Anderson. They will dance around each other until they both surrender to the love they cannot deny.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This is my first Klaine story, so I'm a bit nervous… This idea came to me while I was watching Matthew Bourne's SwanLake. It's an extraordinaire piece of art! I changed some things in the plot of the ballet, though, to fit my story. I hope you'll like it!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Glee or Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake ballet, nor I am making any profit out of this. So don't sue me.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Life was good to Kurt Hummel. He had a loving family – Burt and Carole made sure of proving that, checking on him two times a week, telling him how much he is missed at home and how every Christmas, anniversary and Thanksgiving is so far away; he also had a nice apartment, not really living in a shoebox, like he imagined he would, before coming to New York, and good, trusty friends. He was in the city of all the possibilities, living his dream with his best friends from high school, finishing his last year at the New York Ballet Academy, dancing his way through life. The only thing that was missing was another heart he could belong to, a lover, a soul mate. Instead, he had lonely mornings, a quiet apartment, sleepless nights, an empty chair at his kitchen table and an equally empty space in his bed, to which he woke up every day and clutched at, every night. Life was still good, but Kurt couldn't be happy.

So, he wasn't. He gave up on whishing and hoping to find a man he could trust and love, a man who would be entirely his, because, really, it seemed that this simply wasn't in his books. His soul mate didn't exist. As simple as that.

Kurt became quieter, keeping his emptiness behind thick walls of stubbornness, steeling his hard exterior in hope of becoming stronger, one day. Because, he thought, one day, his sadness and pain will not matter anymore – the mornings spent alone, the silence stretching along his apartment's walls, the nights when he couldn't find his sleep, even the cold empty space in his bed – it will all cease to be a burden. One day. Because Kurt will learn how to live without that person who would fill all that emptiness. But for now, he will focus on dancing and on living one day at a time, keeping his heavy heart protected and his head held high. As long as he could stay in one piece, he could make it.

The rest is to be discovered.

* * *

Every Friday night Kurt went to the most obnoxious, annoying, off-putting, and sometimes gross gay bar in New York – The Rainbow. The name itself made you want to puke, but hey, who gives a damn about what it's called like, when you could always find a hook up and drink yourself stupid? Not that Kurt did any of that, but those seemed to be the reasons for which the club was full every night. Even though he hated the place, he loved the freedom it gave him, when he danced there. Nobody knew who he was, or what his name was, but everybody wanted to see his performance.

That's right, Kurt Hummel, one of the best ballet dancers at New York Ballet Academy was also one of the most sought after pole dancers in New York city. He received good offers from many gay bars, some of them even crazy, but he never left The Rainbow. It was ironic, really, but he didn't want to go from one bar to another, switching places all the time. He was content with his status and his weekly paycheck right where he was.

Wanting to avoid being seen in the crowd, even if no one knew him, Kurt always entered through the back door, since the owner gave him a key. This way he didn't have to fight his way through a mass of heated bodies groping each other, hands seeking out something to grab and loud shitty music. Thank God he could choose his own songs to dance to.

"Hey, Kurt! What took you so long? You're usually half an hour earlier." Kurt startled, coming back from his musings.

"Sam? What are you doing here?"

Sam shrugged, flashing his trademark wide smile in Kurt's direction, but not quite meeting his eyes.

"I just came to watch you dance. I haven't done that in a while."

Kurt didn't look convinced at this excuse and decided to find out the truth. Whatever was troubling Sam, he was going to find out.

"Well, why don't you come with me in the changing room and we'll talk?"

"Sure. Lead the way."

"I'm sure you already know the way, Sam, but as always, it's my pleasure." Kurt grinned, glad that Sam gave him a genuine half smile.

They made their way to the changing room as fast as possible, since neither of them wanted any encounters with random drunk guys. When Kurt reached the door, he opened it with practiced ease and got inside, locking the door after Sam. He didn't want any interruptions while they talked.

"So… Do you want to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to forcibly extract it from you?" Kurt always decided to take the direct path towards a problem. He didn't beat around the bush. It wasn't practical or useful.

Sam knew though how to avoid Kurt's tactic, opting to only smile at him, just to annoy him a bit, and then change the subject, in which case Kurt would get even more irritated.

"Sam, I'm warning you, this smile-dumbly-then-change-the-subject kind of thing is getting old, and you know that. Now just drop the act and tell me what's wrong."

The blonde averted his eyes once again and opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and closed it again. Kurt was getting antsy looking at him. He put his bag on the floor and took Sam's hand, leading him to a bench in the corner of the room. Sam followed obediently, but didn't say anything, just stared at their hands. Kurt waited. If his friend wasn't going to talk openly, then forcing him would only steel his resolve of not spilling anything. Or it would make him mad, and Kurt knew better than that, since he got the silent treatment from Sam on several occasions. So waiting seemed the best choice in this case. It really didn't matter that he had a show in twenty minutes or so.

After a few moments of silence – well, almost silence, since the music was blasting downstairs, the whole bar already crammed with bodies – Sam took a deep breath and looked at Kurt. He seemed even more troubled and sad and Kurt didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry, Kurt, but I really came here just to see you. I really missed you these days, but you were so busy with your practice and I didn't want to distract you or anything, so..."

Kurt deflated. So that was it. 'Okay then – he thought. Have it your way'. He rose from the bench and went to take his short leather pants and his black mask out of his bag. Sam watched him change into his stage "costume", since Kurt didn't mind. They were comfortable enough now to see each other undress again, after they've been together for a while. The fact that it didn't work out didn't make them lose the ease with which they moved around each other. It only added strength to their friendship. Well, that is to be seen, considering the fact that Sam couldn't tell Kurt what was troubling him.

While Kurt appeared to be debating whether he should choose the shoes with the highest heels or the ones with more glitter on them, Sam approached him from behind and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Look, Kurt, I'm sorry. I promise we'll talk, but after your show, ok? I just need some time to think about how to tell you what's bothering me and seeing you dancing will take my mind off my problems spectacularly. That's why I came. To clear my head. So… can I wait for you afterwards?"

"Of course, Sam. When they'll finish worshipping my fabulous body, I'll be all yours. And you better tell me then, or I'll hurt you with my sharp hellish heels and leave you to bleed on the sidewalk!"

"Yeah, yeah, go and blow their minds. I'll meet you at the back door afterwards."

Kurt couldn't wait until he was finished with his performance. Seeing Sam so troubled and out of character knotted his stomach. He let Sam go and closed the door after him. He needed some warming exercises first and a few minutes to himself, to shed his own skin and become his other self – the gay bar superstar Kurt Hummel pole dancer extraordinaire. When he'll go on that stage, he won't be Kurt anymore. He'll be the Black Swan. There'll be plenty princes to charm, but only one boy, golden haired and defeated, will matter to him. Tonight he'll dance for him. At this thought, Kurt ignored the pang in his chest, when a voice in his head reminded him how much he'd love to dance for a man who'd own his heart.

He'll have none of that, not tonight. He shook his head and made his way towards the stage. It was the time to shine.

He chose a special song for tonight's show. It was the anthem of his broken heart. He always planned his routine sensual and seductive, so he could tempt and lure, but still remain untouchable.

_Ain't nobody  
(Can love me like you do)_

As the music started, pulsing through his veins, he strutted to the dance pole, moving his hips to the beat, enjoying the hungry looks he got, but slowly detaching himself from the burn they caused. He had to keep his mind clear.

_Meet me in the red sky  
And dance with me_

Taking one brief look at the crowd at his feet, he spotted a blond head and a pair of eyes watching his every move. Sam was smiling. Kurt gave him a small smile in return and grabbed the pole, climbing as high as possible, with deliberate, practiced movements, feeling the strain in his muscles and the adrenaline in his system. He breathed through his nose and expanded his chest, letting his left arm stretch above his head.

_Let the valley change you  
And the night set you free_

This moment was his. He fell in a small pirouette and circled the pole once, before mounting again in a quick shoulder mount V, hearing long whistles from some guys in the front.

_You are my desire  
You are my escape_

He was used to this by now. Desired but not wanted, worshipped but not loved. He was just an image paraded to please, but not something to be cherished.

_Open up this moment  
And bury me inside_

His fluid movements described this feeling. His whole body opened to this moment, and his eyes closed over the fluttering of his heart.

_Drown me in this silence  
We'll never come undone _

He finished with an elbow handstand split, exhaling softly, with roaring applause ringing in his ears and some crude calls here and there from the mass of faceless men. One blond head was missing. Kurt bowed and left the stage, hurrying to get changed and meet Sam outside the bar. He was somewhat flushed from the exertion, but no routine could bring him down entirely, since he was used to practice hours on end, and on pointe shoes no less. It took him ten minutes – and for Kurt that was a great feat – to get ready and dress in his normal clothes again, locked the door to the changing room and he was outside in the cool air, searching for Sam. He spotted his crouched figure a little bit further down the alley, wearing the same tired smile and sad eyes.

"Hey, Kurt, you totally killed it tonight! I'm sure that pole was thrilled to get acquainted again with your wonderful legs."

"What can I say? I can't help but let my awesomeness show. Now, let's cut the crap and go to my place. We need to talk."

"Wow, so I'm the lucky one. I get to go home with the famous gay bar superstar! Is this my life?" Sam snickered, nudging Kurt in the ribs.

Kurt slapped him over the head and laughed at him. Sam will still be Sam no matter what.

They didn't bother to take a cab, since Kurt lived a few blocks away from the bar. The walk was actually good for both of them. Kurt used the fresh air to loosen his body and Sam took the silence between them to put his thoughts in order. When they finally reached Kurt's door, they got in, Kurt untying his boots, Sam kicking off his tennis shoes, not bothering to see where they landed, and made his way to Kurt's kitchen, like usually. This was how they were together, completely at ease around each other. Kurt followed him calmly.

"So, what do you want to drink? I've got some beer from when Finn came visiting last week, some soda, diet coke, and some orange juice."

"Orange juice!" Sam grinned.

Of course.

"Couch. Now."

"Yes sir."

Silence again. When he couldn't hide behind his jokes anymore, Sam looked defeated.

"Sam, just, please, tell me what's wrong."

"I got fired." Sam blurted. "Someone made a stupid complaint saying that I molested them and I got fired. They don't want me back. Huh'… Who would have thought that being a stripper gave you so little credibility? They won't even listen to me. And I can't pay the rent this month either, and that makes it three months of not paying it at all… And I got an eviction notice. They want me out of the apartment on Monday. As in...two days from now."

Kurt couldn't move. When did this happen? Why didn't he know? Sam was living hell for God only knows how long and he didn't have a clue about it. 'Such a good friend I am…' Kurt bit his cheek and took Sam's hand in his.

"When did this happen?"

"Last week."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Kurt's voice was soft, almost a whisper.

"You were busy…"

"Sam, we talked about this…"

"No, Kurt, it's not like I'm using this as an excuse. But I know you're working hard every day and I just thought I could solve this myself. I didn't want you to know. It's not your problem."

"Not my problem? But you are my friend! I am supposed to know when shit happens to you!" Kurt was furious at himself and he knew he shouldn't take it out on Sam, but he couldn't stop.

"Well maybe if you called from time to time you would know if shit happens to me!"

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going in the wrong direction.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that…"

"No, Sam, you're right. I've been a horrible friend. I should have called."

Kurt pulled Sam in his arms and held him tight, fighting to keep his tears to himself.

This was the reason they broke up in the first place. Kurt was too selfish. He really loved Sam, but he didn't know how to be there for him. He couldn't do it as his lover and, as it seems, he can't do it as his friend.

Sam swallowed hard, trying to pull from the embrace, but Kurt wouldn't let him. If the silent tears were of any indication, Sam has finally broken down. After all this time of pretending to be okay, he gave up and simply cried. Maybe Kurt should do the same.

And he did.

Sleep took them both, Kurt running his fingers through Sam's golden hair and Sam's hand clutching the back of Kurt's shirt.

* * *

**End Chapter Note**: "Clare Maguire - Ain't Nobody (Breakage Remix)" is the song Kurt danced to. Also, I'd like to apologize if the pole dancing scene isn't very good or maybe not accurate enough, but I know very little about this form of dancing and the information I found on the Internet only helped me this much. If there is something wrong anywhere, feel free to tell me! Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Thank you, Mia, for your support and for reading my humble story! :D Many hugs for you!

And thank you, my followers, for taking the time to read as well! I hope I don't disappoint you guys… I'm sorry for taking so long updating the second chapter, but I had some trouble dealing with a writer's block… I promise I'll soon get to the good part of this story – I guess you're here for some Klaine love, so that shall come before long. :D In chapter 3 we'll see our dearest Blaine! Yay!

Happy reading!

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The first thought that Kurt managed to form when he woke up in the morning was that something was digging in the back of his head and thus it was hurting him like hell. Also, there was a dull pounding in his skull, aggravated by the piercing light that came through his living room windows.

Oh, right, he never made it to the bedroom.

Someone next to him – or better said on top of him – moved, burring his head in the fabric of his shirt, probably trying to keep the light from his eyes. Sam was splayed all over him, one hand over his chest, one leg blocking him entirely, the other stretched awkwardly and his right hand was under Kurt's head. Damn, his enormous wrist watch was hurting him. Kurt couldn't be more pleased. The numbness that paralyzed his body from not moving at all during the night irritated him. He had to move, and Sam wasn't budging one inch, deadweight that he was.

"Sam, wake up." Kurt nudged him with his shoulder.

The string of unintelligible sounds coming from Sam's open mouth wasn't proving anything.

"Sam Evans, you better not be drooling on my shirt, or else I will hurt you. Wake up, dammit!" Kurt usually had a fairly good disposition in the morning, even when he didn't sleep much, but if you pissed him off when he woke up, hell will break loose. Instead of trying any further, Kurt simply jabbed his stupid unresponsive friend in the ribs. _Hard_.

"_Ow_! Kurt, what the hell is wrong with you?" Sam mumbled groggily, but he seemed to have gathered some sense in the following seconds, because he appeared to be somewhat embarrassed, trying to hurriedly disentangle himself from Kurt. "Oh, right, I'm sorry, I fell asleep on you." Flashing a half grin at Kurt, to dissipate the awkwardness, he stretched his arms and started rubbing the knots in his neck.

"Damn, Kurt, I didn't know your couch was so damn uncomfortable."

"Well, I guess you'll have to get used to it from now on, at least for a while, since you'll be sleeping on it. And there'll be no human pillow next time." Kurt smirked, watching the confused frown on Sam's face.

"Don't worry, you'll adjust fairly quickly. And maybe, if you behave, we'll switch places from time to time, I'll take the couch, and you'll take the bed. Now, how about some breakfast?"

Sam's frown deepened. "Kurt, am I missing something here?"

"Yes, blondie. You're moving in with me."

"No, Kurt, I am not. When did we decide that?" Sam seemed quite upset now.

"We didn't. But I did. And I know you're too stubborn to ask for any help, so I think this is a good choice. It's not like we're not familiar with each other already. More than familiar, if I remember correctly. And we're friends, so what harm could come of it?"

"What harm? It's not about that, look, it's… I don't want to do this. I haven't told you this to make you take me in. I don't want charity, Kurt."

"Don't be stupid, Sam! You're my friend and I want to help you. Wouldn't you do the same if I was in a tough situation?"

That seemed to shut Sam's mouth, but his expression was still taut. Kurt took his hand and looked at him in a gentle but firm way.

"I may have not been the best of friends to you lately, absorbed in my own life, but if I can help you get on your feet now, I will not step back from anything. In fact, I think I can find a way out of this unpleasant situation you're in. It will take some strings pulled here and there, but we'll solve this eventually. Do you trust me with this?"

Sam sighed, but eventually smiled faintly and nodded. Kurt took that as a good sign and after a moment, he got up, stretched a bit, and while his limbs got reacquainted with normal blood flow, the gears turned in his head. Kurt Hummel was a natural problem solver and he left no business unfinished.

During breakfast, he discussed with Sam the plan he came up with – it was fairly simple, nothing outrageous - and also talked about their living together arrangements – which maybe caused a bit of a fuss, but that was because Kurt was keen on having everything well planned. It was all pretty similar to when they chose to share an apartment when they were together, but Kurt didn't spend too much time reminiscing about that. Some things were better to be left in the past.

So, they decided to bring Sam's belongings to Kurt's flat that afternoon, and after they'd put everything to its well thought place, Kurt would make some calls, maybe offer to dance the weekends too, and The Rainbow would hire a stripper. As simple as that. The club needed some variety, anyway.

Kurt didn't really think everything would fall into place so quickly; some hitch would eventually come up, somewhere.

He expected at least some awkwardness at first, or some issues that would arise at some point between him and Sam, but no, nothing happened. When Sunday came and went with no strange events, Kurt breathed relieved. He would survive this. Never mind the fact that opening his eyes in the morning with the knowledge that somebody else was waking up in the other room would eventually do things to his head - or that every time he brushed his teeth he'd see another tooth brush next to his, or that breakfast would sometimes be ready when he got out of bed, if Sam wasn't in a lazy mood, or other apparently insignificant detail would pop up in his mind – never mind the strange heavy feeling in his chest whenever he thought of all that. Sam was his best friend. And sooner or later, he'll move back into his own apartment. When he'll have gathered enough money, he'll go back to his own life. And Kurt would find himself alone again. So, no big deal.

Except, it was.

But, well, Kurt was very good at being brave. He's always been brave.

* * *

Two weeks passed with no major events – except for the highly embarrassing questions he received about Sam, at the club, when they performed together the first night, or that one time when Sam clogged the shower drain with hair because he felt like giving himself a new haircut - in the shower – _okay, who does that?_ - or that seriously weird discussion one morning about how Kurt should get a cat – a big cat – because Sam thought he saw a mouse in the apartment – and _really_? Kurt _did not_ have mice in his home, thank you very much. Sam was probably hallucinating on his way to get a glass of water.

But Kurt was actually too busy to care about how crazy his life has become either way, plus, he was sore on a daily basis. His ballet classes suddenly became more vicious and that is saying something, because he'd gotten by now toes and muscles of steel, with which he would conquer any long-and-painful-hours-on pointe-crusade, but actually having calf cramps was ridiculous. Not to mention, he was also stressed with his final performance, which, being at the end of the year seemed rather far, but in reality it was closer than it felt like; and he still had to choose something extraordinary from a classical repertoire – there's no way Kurt Hummel will do contemporary ballet, really – and this will be a turning point for him and a chance to be discovered by some famous French ballet Master or something as equally fabulous as that. Or maybe one of his teachers would ask him to stay and perform with the NYBA dancers and be their new shining star. He almost felt like Rachel whenever she gets her mind set on winning something, and to make that comparison was extreme, even for him. Kurt was a perfectionist, but he wasn't obsessed.

He decided to take one thing at a time, in order to keep himself sane till the end of the school year. Maybe – and possibly this would turn out disastrously – he will ask Rachel's opinion on what he should perform. They would come up with a solution, eventually. As long as Kurt still had hope, things would come to him. But unfortunately, the thing with life is that whenever you have too much hope or too much joy or too much anything that's good, it pushes you a step back, like giving you a quick slap in the face, just to make sure you don't get lost in la-la land. But anyway, Kurt was ready for that too. It wouldn't be the first time life had him landing on his ass. The thing is that he managed to get on his feet.

_Keep it up, Hummel_. Kurt smiled to himself.

* * *

On a particularly bright Thursday morning, Kurt couldn't help but feel a little jittery.

Maybe the fact that he had woken up in the middle of the night and practiced a few moves on the dance pole, then, when he was exhausted enough, passed out on his bed, wasn't a very good idea. His muscles felt sore – that stopped being a novelty - and there was a faint buzz in the back of his head. But then again, all this might have been caused by…

"Kurt, are you still with me?"

Sam's voice brought him back from his thoughts. He must have been frowning because Sam looked a bit worried.

"I'm sorry. Were you saying something?"

"Well, I _was_ talking, I usually do the talking in the morning, but you always nod and smile and hum and pretend that you're listening for the most part of it, but now you were just frowning. So, what's up?"

Kurt felt a smile creep up on his face. A hyperactive Sam was cute. And those lips, God…

No. No, he was not having a crush on Sam's lips. Again.

_Ugh._

"Sam, nothing's wrong, I just didn't sleep well enough and I think I have a migraine coming, so… I guess I just got lost inside my own head for a bit. Sorry."

"So, why were you up practicing last night? Couldn't sleep?"

"How do you know I was up last night?"

Sam looked sheepish.

"I woke up to get a glass of water and I heard a soft thud from your room and went to check if you were fine. And you were on the pole and I guess I watched you for a while and then got back to sleep."

"Oh-kay… I didn't know I was keeping a creeper in my home. Kurt made a straight face, but he was pretty touched that Sam thought to check up on him."

"Oh, come on, it's not like I've never seen you doing your routine on that pole, Kurt. But you still didn't answer. What's wrong?"

"I couldn't sleep, so I wanted to burn some energy, that's all."

Sam didn't look much convinced.

"And well, Rachel sent me a message last night and it sounded weird, like there's something wrong. She said we needed to talk. And I guess I couldn't help but feeling a bit uneasy. You know Rachel…"

"Oh… So, when are you going to talk to her?"

"In an hour or so. I don't have classes until noon, so we're meeting at Stephanie's."

"A pause stretched between them, Sam appearing to be thinking of something, and Kurt watching the crease between Sam's eyebrows and the way he worried his bottom lip between his teeth."

_His bottom. Lip. Okay, Kurt, get a grip_.

"Are you worried that Rachel might have found out I'm staying with you?"

Sam's voice was tentative, but his expression was serious. And seriously, what was Kurt supposed to say to that? If he said yes, that would be a lie; but if he said no, that would be a half-lie. If Rachel were to know Sam's staying with him, she'd never stop talking about how much of a bad idea this was for him and how Kurt wanted to help Sam to somehow bring him back and really, that couldn't be further from the truth. Indeed, living with Sam brought Kurt some renewed feelings, but that was probably normal. He loved Sam. And he loved having him there, because coming home to his sunny disposition was better than coming home to empty walls and silence. So, whatever Rachel might think if she found out, he was doing what any friend would do, no ulterior motives at all. Anything that came out of it was just the result of life simply happening, you couldn't say no to that.

Kurt was aware of the fact that he was staring at Sam with his mouth mid open to answer, which he was sure it looked ridiculous, so he took a deep breath and answered him with as much calm and confidence as he could muster.

"No, Sam, I'm not worried about that. In fact, it's probably the first thing I'm going to tell her, since she's endlessly nosey. Why would I be bothered by that? It's not like I'm keeping you hidden like a secret or something."

"Yes, but she would think there's something going on between us and I know how you don't like to have someone pry into your personal life and feelings, not even your friends, a fact that I've come to understand first hand and not exactly the easy way…"

_Okay, what? _

"Sam, I think you're over thinking this…"

"No, Kurt, I know you. And this is another reason for which I didn't want to move in with you. We've been together for long enough so that it actually meant something, and me coming here, living with you, I know what it does to you, even if you don't want to accept it. We're doing great together, but I know that sometimes, you just wish that there was someone real for you, living with you, sharing a breakfast or watch a movie or call for pizza when you're too tired to cook, and not just a friend you could spend some time with."

Kurt was starting to get slightly angry. He felt his cheeks a bit warmer.

"Why did we just turn this into some pity-party thrown for me? Of course I have some sort of feelings for you, but that part of us is in the past and now it's just like we're roommates. What's the big deal? And why would you hold it against me if I enjoy having you here, since it's actually nice to come home to someone to talk to and just _be_, without having to look for some sort of way to pass the time with no one but myself or resorting to practice and practice until I could barely stand? And yeah, I was lonely, and yeah, now I feel less so, why should that be bad? And of _fucking_ course I want someone real for me, but hey, they don't actually exist! And please let my non existing love life to me to wallow over in self pity, because, really, I don't need your help with that!"

Okay, things got out of hand, to say the least. Sam was dumbstruck and Kurt was breathless from what was probably the worst tirade he ever spewed at him. Why did this morning start so disastrously, when it actually seemed bright and peaceful, Kurt couldn't stop asking himself and his mantra of _stupid stupid stupid_ going on in his head was not helping at all. Not knowing what to do and being neither ready nor calm enough to talk about whatever he just said, Kurt snatched his satchel from the chair next to him and bolted through the kitchen door like his apartment was on fire. He was out and running on the stairs and then on the street in a matter of seconds, not caring one bit about the looks he got from people he almost bumped into or that the corners of his eyes stung a bit.

He was stupid. Sam was stupid. Rachel was stupid. Everything seemed stupid and just unfair and Kurt couldn't deal with it right now. When he felt his legs tire, he stopped running and took a deep breath to try and calm his raging heart. He made it to Central Park in his rush to get away from everything that happened, but he didn't quite know why his legs brought him there. The café he was supposed to meet Rachel at was only five minutes of walking away from the park.

_Oh, right, Rachel_.

Kurt didn't feel like putting a poker face on and being all nice and composed while listening to her babbling about God knows what stupid rivalry she got into or how much she hates Finn at the moment. He just needs space.

"Kurt?"

He flinched a bit, but didn't turn around. He didn't need to, anyway, he'd recognize that voice anywhere. Why did he have to meet Rachel now, when he still had twenty minutes or so until their coffee date?

"Kurt, how is it that you're so early?"

Rachel pulled Kurt in a hug, oblivious to his internal battle. Only when Kurt didn't hug her back, she realized something was wrong.

Kurt always hugged back.

"Kurt, is something wrong? Why are you so serious? And you look… distressed." Rachel's frown deepened with worry.

"Oh my God, is it your dad? Is he alright? What happened?"

Kurt smiled involuntarily. Of course she would think of the worst possible situation.

"Rachel… I just ran here and… it's complicated."

"Why? Why did you run?"

"I had a fight with Sam." Kurt sighed. He couldn't tell her a lie.

"Sam? Why? What happened?"

Kurt wanted to tell her, he really did. But not here, on a sidewalk. He shot her a pained look, hoping that she would understand.

"Okay, okay, I get it, not here. But the café's not the best place either then. Let's go to your place."

"No, Rachel, I can't go there…"

Rachel looked at him confused. "Why not?"

"Sam's there."

Awkward silence. Rachel's confusion was replaced by an unreadable look. Kurt sighed again and looked at his feet.

"He's staying at my place for now. That's why I told you it's complicated…"

"Kurt Hummel, you are going to tell me what's happening here. We go to my place, now."

Rachel Berry, bless her, was nothing but a force of nature.

* * *

The trip to Rachel's apartment took less than twenty minutes, since she hailed a cab and threw Kurt inside, shouting at the startled driver her address. That was a less than refined moment for Rachel but Kurt knew better than to tell her that.

When they finally made it inside her apartment, after an uncomfortable silence in the elevator, Kurt expected her to pounce on him, asking him countless questions, but no. She made her way to the sofa and sat cross-legged, fixing him with an intent look. Kurt just followed her and plopped himself next to her, but not looking into her eyes.

"Kurt, tell me one thing. Are you with Sam again?"

Well, it's not that Kurt wasn't expecting this. So, he breathed deeply and simply shook his head.

"Then why is he staying with you?"

"He had to move out of his apartment because he couldn't pay the rent after he was fired. Long story short."

"Okay… Then why did you two fight?"

Kurt pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. How should he explain it?

"It didn't start as something bad, but then I told him I'm nervous about what we have to talk because your message sounded serious and then he asked me if I'm going to tell you that he's living with me. Precisely because he knew that you were going to ask me what you asked me already. And things went down from there…"

Rachel looked at him as though she couldn't understand something.

"Are you judging me in your head now?"

"Yes, but only because I'm your best friend and I'm allowed to do so."

That smile didn't convince anyone.

"But tell me, Kurt, why did this get you so upset? If it's not some weird relationship dynamic, then why would you get so bothered by it?"

Kurt took a moment to find a proper way to say what he was thinking. Or, better said, what he was feeling.

"It irritated me that he could read me like that. Like he would know what I would think of, and he was right. That bothers me, that he was right. I just thought I hid it better. Hell, I'm always convinced nobody can see though my mask. That I can guard my feelings."

"But Kurt, Sam is your friend and he was your boyfriend, which gives him superior knowledge on how to decipher Kurt Hummel. He even does it better than me or Finn sometimes. But it's not bad, you know, it's just something that happens when you let someone inside."

Rachel took Kurt's hand in hers and squeezed lightly.

"Do you think I haven't noticed how you closed off after you and Sam broke up? I know you dated a few guys afterward, but it just… it wasn't the same. You weren't the same. And Sam saw that, obviously. He wants you to be happy, too, as your friend."

"But you don't get it, Rachel! I don't want that! I don't want him to worry about how I pathetically can't get over the fact that I am alone!"

"Kurt, nobody thinks you're pathetic, and it's ok …"

"No, Rachel, it's not ok! It hurts! I've been fucking hurting for two years! Ignoring it makes it manageable, yeah, that's what I'm doing, I manage, but bringing it up and throwing it in my face is making it hurt like a bitch!"

Kurt felt angry again.

_What is it with today and me having poor anger management? Maybe Sam was right, I don't want anyone to poke at my feelings and my personal insides_.

"Let's make this clear, Rachel. I love you, and I love Sam too, but I'll deal with my feelings on my own. I don't want to see that pitying gleam in your eyes or you thinking I'm going to fall into depression and become a ghost or anything equally depressing. If I am meant to stay alone, then fine, I can deal with it. But I don't want you, or Sam, to make a big deal out of it on my account. Do you understand?"

Kurt could hear his pulse in his ears and he genuinely worried for his blood pressure. And judging by Rachel's little smile and the smug expression she was wearing – trying to be subtle, but failing miserably, he expected something outrageously annoying to come out of her mouth.

"Did you wait long to get that off of your chest?"

Kurt gave her _the glare_, but other than that, he said nothing.

"I understand. But what you have to learn to do, Kurt, no matter how annoying it may seem to you, is letting us worry about you from time to time. That counts as caring, and as loving. And we love you. So, yes, we might not get everything right all the time, but trying makes experience. And you haven't let us in enough to get much experience in how to help you. Or, okay, – _there's Kurt's glare again, making her rephrase_ – not help, at least understand you. So stop being mad and try to talk to Sam and be best friends again, and then everything will be perfect once more!"

Kurt rolled his eyes.

What could he say to that? If there was one thing that he appreciated more about Rachel, other than her strong and brilliant mind, it was her heart. But there's only so much angsty feelings and sap he could take in one day. A switch would be welcome.

"Okay, now can you please distract me from these overflowing feelings and just tell me the serious thing you wanted to talk to me about?"

Rachel looked like she might not actually want to talk about it, all of a sudden. But then, she furrowed her brows in determination and took a deep breath.

"Well, I want to ask you a favor. Like, a big one."

"How big are we talking here?" Kurt eyed her suspicious.

"Life changing. The good kind."

"Ok, I'm listening."

"Remember when I told you that Miss July said I could have her position as Ballet Mistress if I impressed her at the end of the year with a spectacular ballet? I've been thinking… a lot… and I think I know what to do. I know what will be good enough. But I need your help. As male lead."

"Alright… What ballet have you thought of?"

Rachel held her breath.

"Swan Lake. But not the classic. I want an all male version of Swan Lake. I already have the story ready, I changed it a lot so far and it doesn't resemble any version of Swan Lake that was ever made."

She assessed Kurt's silence as something encouraging, so she continued, not missing one breath.

"I know it's risky and you probably think I'm trying to overdo it, but I'm certain that anything else, anything safe, would not be good enough no matter what. I just… need you to think about it and maybe read the story and give me an opinion. But I honestly never hoped for you to accept anything as I do now. Please, think about it, Kurt."

Rachel was close to biting her nails by the time Kurt came back from his surprise.

"Who's the prince?"

Kurt surprised even himself with that question. But it was a legitimate one. If he was forced to work with Jesse St. James the prick, he would not survive the whole ordeal. _No way_.

"There's no prince so far. I have yet to decide on a day for the casting call. I just wanted to know if you're with me on this or not. Because I trust you the most and I know that if you put your best into this, we can both make it big. You haven't decided until now on your performance for the graduation ceremony, right? This could be it. And I promise I will not fail you. I couldn't jeopardize your career as a dancer by attaching your name to mine if I wasn't sure we could win this. This would be…"

"Okay, Rachel, stop, I get it. Yes. I'll do it."

"You will?"

"Yes, stop flailing, Schwimmer, I said yes!"

"Hey, watch it, you are not allowed to call me that! It's insulting!"

"Miss July hasn't used it as an insult in a very long time, since you stopped being her personal hell and became her favorite, so I can use it as an endearment. So, what should I do now, that I am the lead Swan?"

"Well, the first step is to help me choose my dancers. You're the most important piece in the puzzle, so I want you to choose wisely, since you'll work with them on a very close level. Our major concern should be the Prince. And then the group of swans. And then…"

"Okay, okay, one at a time. So, the Prince. When do you want to set the date for the casting call?"

Rachel worried her bottom lip. Kurt took a mental step back and just _looked_ at her. Now that he thought of it, Rachel changed. Sure, she was the same crazy, enthusiastic, strong willed, stubborn and loving friend, but… She wasn't Miss Schwimmer anymore.

And then, Kurt realized that Rachel will make it. Definitely. She'll be the next kick-ass Ballet Mistress at NYBA, even better than Miss July.

"How about Monday? We have the weekend to broadcast the information and to prepare our nerves for when it hits us…"

Kurt pulled her into a hug, which resulted in Rachel shutting up.

"We'll make it, Rach, I know that."

"I love you, Kurt" The smile was obvious in her tone.

"Love you too, Schwimmer."

The jab in his ribs was totally worth it.

Kurt had no idea how many things could go wrong and really, he didn't care. He's let his heart lead him and even though it failed him on times, he knew this time it would be worth trusting it.

And maybe, just maybe, he would find his Prince out there.

* * *

**Will you tell me what you think? I'd appreciate that. Thank you! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Thank you for waiting and for still reading – that is, if you are still reading … I'm sorry for my long absence… I will update more often from now on… But just so you know, I won't abandon this story, I promise. **

* * *

**Chapter 3 **

Kurt left Rachel's apartment in higher spirits. They talked for another good hour about Rachel's ideas on the ballet, about how she changed the story and also about a few dancers she had in mind for some particular parts. The ballet required six girls, too - there would be a ball scene at the beginning of the final act and one of the girls would appear occasionally as the Prince's mother – but the ballet will be danced mainly by guys – this was the idea, to impress with originality, to surprise, but finally, to succeed in showing everyone their talent. Rachel would prove herself not only in front of all the dancers and the professors, but she will take Miss July's position while working on her MA Ballet Studies. Not only she will be an exception, since no one ever got this opportunity, but she will have surpassed everyone.

But so many things still needed polishing, so many details needed revising. They couldn't afford mistakes or omissions. And whoever they will get to choose, they'd have to be careful. No traitors would be welcomed, like that Jesse St. James with his foul personality, who tricked Rachel once, making her fall for him and then stabbed her in the back.

Only when he was halfway back to his own flat, he remembered that Sam will be waiting for him. If the cold feeling of dread that quickly settled in the pit of his stomach was of any indication, Kurt was really not eager to get there soon.

It was almost noon, but Kurt already decided he wanted to skip his first class and go to the 2 o'clock 2 hour session of Choreography and Improvisation. He wanted to eat something and take a shower. And somewhere in between those, get rid of the uncomfortable conversation he had to have with Sam.

Kurt took the stairs – it was only a four floors trip and he needed the extra time to prepare a little speech in his head. He should apologize for shouting, deal with the embarrassing things he spouted at Sam and see if they could return to normal.

When he got in front of his apartment, he fumbled for his keys and took a deep breath, willing his heart to slow down, before opening the door. He half hoped Sam would be out, but shrugged it off, slapping himself mentally for being a coward.

Why was he really dreading this talk? Sam knew him inside out, this was why he understood Kurt better than anyone. And this is why it was more difficult to hide from him, because Sam would always guess what was behind the mask.

_God, I'm really stupid, aren't I? Fumbling with my keys, standing like an idiot in front of my own apartment, trying to find some words to hide behind._

Finally, he entered the door, closing it without much noise, taking his time taking off his shoes and throwing a tentative look towards the living room, where Sam usually spent his morning, watching television or playing video games. He wasn't there.

_Maybe he's out_. Kurt thought, but it did little to soothe his nerves. _If he's out, it means he's mad at me_. Sam always needed a little time before sorting out something complicated or troublesome. Kurt hated that waiting time, because waiting meant thinking of worst case scenarios, and honestly, he didn't need that now. His euphoria and enthusiasm from his talk with Rachel died down now, being replaced by thoughts of concern and dread. It was all wonderful and everything, but come Monday, he'll have to deal with choosing between ballet dancers, some of them could even be his friends, and that was a complicated affair. Also, being lead meant the burden laid on his shoulders, mostly. Rachel was going to be a complete nutcase until things started to shape out.

Noise from the kitchen pulled him out of his thoughts. Apparently, Sam was still there. In the kitchen, more precisely. Kurt was a little more than baffled when he saw Sam wearing an apron and making pancakes. He looked… calm and happy. And not angry at all. He didn't really know what to do with that. Was he trying to avoid talking about what happened earlier? That would be a first. Or was he trying to lure Kurt in a sense of security and then corner him with questions?

"Kurt, I thought you have a class now. But it's good you came. I made pancakes, look! I'm awesome, right?"

"Uh, yeah…"

_Dumb much, Hummel?_ Kurt slapped himself mentally. It was kind of obvious that the subject won't be breached, so why not take the lead and solve it now.

"Sam, I'm sorry about this morning. I overreacted. You know how I get when I'm stressed. What I said was true, but a bit overdramatic. You're my best friend, and you staying with me got me out of my bubble of misery for a while. It _was_ a little lonely. But I'm not making any further thoughts about this arrangement. My mind wanders sometimes, but it's not like I can help it…"

Sam smiled at that.

"Me too. The first night I spent here and I saw you get ready for bed, it was like something hit me in the solar plexus. It reminded me of your interminable skin care routines, before bed and how I always had to drag you to sleep. It brought back memories. But that's not something bad. It's just something we had once and now we get to keep it as a memory. We're lucky we stayed friends."

Kurt nodded.

The distance between them still felt awkward though, so Kurt pulled a chair at the kitchen table and cleared his throat.

"So, are we okay?"

No matter how stupid and fragile that sounded, Kurt had to know. Sam puffed in dissimulated annoyance.

"We are _golden_. Unbreakable. Soul twins. Nothing cannot not be okay between us."

Kurt smiled. _Yeah, we are_, he thought.

"Right. Yeah, so… Pancakes? For lunch. How so?"

"Well, I found this recipe a while ago - vegetables and cheese pancakes, and it sounded good, so I figured it might taste good as well. Plus, you said you were going to see Rachel and I thought that pancakes would do some good to your levels of energy. You seemed drained this morning, so I thought you would consider helpful finding some delicious pancakes in the fridge after the ominous talk with her. Well, I know you can handle any sort of drama, but then again, pancakes never hurt anyone, right?"

Kurt laughed at that. Actually, it warmed his heart, hearing that Sam thought of making his day better. This is why he loved him, for little things like this and for how he supported Kurt no matter what.

Finally feeling at ease again, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders, Kurt relaxed in their closeness, watching Sam move around the kitchen, taking some plates for the two of them and setting them on the table, all the while humming to himself. It felt domestic, it felt like home.

There were so many times, after they broke up, when Kurt wondered and tried to imagine how they would have been, if they got to the point of being a _family_. Like being married and living together. But it hurt much more, so he just suppressed those thoughts. However, they still came back, from time to time. Now, though, it didn't hurt or make Kurt feel nostalgic, it just felt good.

Still smiling, Kurt left the kitchen to go wash his hands and change into something more comfortable. Lunch with Sam sounded great, and movie marathon with Sam, on the couch, afterwards, sounded even better, 2 o'clock Choreography and Improvisation class be damned. He never missed any of his classes, so if anyone questioned him about it, he'd just say he didn't feel well.

* * *

In the morning, Kurt woke up early, made some coffee for himself and sat at the kitchen table, looking out the window. He still didn't tell Sam about his lead role in Rachel's Swan Lake ballet, not because he tried to avoid it, but because he needed time to let everything settle properly inside his own head, before he asked Sam's opinion.

While he pondered on how to approach the matter, he heard Sam mutter something under his breath, and saw him coming from the living room. He probably hit something on his way to the kitchen. Again.

"Damn it, Kurt, this impulse of yours of changing the place of things in the apartment is getting me worried. Are you sure you shouldn't be checked for OCD or something?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow, trying his best to glare, but couldn't keep that longer than a few seconds, because Sam's face in the morning was too adorable to bitch at.

"No, Sam, it's called having imagination and getting bored of seeing everything in the same place for too long. Does that help, or are there too many words?"

Sam didn't respond, but he gave Kurt a withering stare. Instead of being impressed, Kurt chuckled. Sam pointedly ignored it and poured himself some coffee, then sat on a chair next to Kurt.

"Whatever. So… you never told me what you talked with Rachel yesterday. Was it bad? Another Berry tragedy?" The smirk was evident in his voice. But Kurt couldn't help but return it, since he knew better than no one that the life of Rachel Berry was full of drama and trouble, so the irony had more truth than anyone would believe.

"Yes, well, I needed time to process it myself, and I'm still not there yet, but I can tell you about it. To put it simple, she wants me as lead role in her ballet for the final project."

"That's so cool, why aren't you ecstatic already?"

"I am, but I guess my nerves are stronger than my enthusiasm. I have to help her choose the other dancers too, and I guess the strain that puts on my shoulders troubles me. It's a big responsibility, you know, choosing right and fair."

Sam nodded and fixed Kurt with a curious expression. His lips twitched upward.

"What role are we talking here, Kurt?"

"If you are going to make fun of me, I will punch you in your pretty face."

Sam was the epitome of innocence.

"I swear I'm not gonna laugh, I'm just curious."

Kurt didn't look convinced, not in the slightest, but he relented.

"It's Swan Lake… I'm the Swan."

While Kurt waited for a laugh, he got a raised eyebrow instead. Well, that was comparatively better.

"Isn't that…like a female role? I mean, no offense, you'd to great, but I don't get it…"

"It is a female role, but Rachel wants to rethink the ballet for a male cast. Well, except for a few cases in which we need female dancers. I know it's bold, but that's what Rachel aims at. She wants to shock everyone into submission and make them bow to her while acknowledging her pure genius." He tried a smile, but it was weak. His insecurities were gnawing at him again. If this was Sam's reaction, he wondered with mild dread what his father will say.

"Well, I'm a bit surprised, but I don't think it's a bad idea. I trust you, Kurt. You've always done what's best for you and for those around you and you had the courage to move forward even when everyone seemed to push you backwards. This time is no different."

And this is why he loved Sam. He definitely won the friendship lottery.

Kurt took Sam's hand and squeezed lightly.

"Thank you, Sam, your support means a lot. I'm sure about this, this is what I want to do, but my insecurities always get in the way, when it becomes too much to handle."

"No problem, Kurt. I'm a bank full of encouraging words, so you can count on me!"

Great. Now, all he had to do was think of how to tell Burt.

_Dear Gaga, this might be a problem_.

* * *

If anyone were to say Kurt was nervous, they couldn't be any farther from the truth. The thing is, there was nothing that could have been able to measure the levels of anxiety that churned Kurt's insides. But being the fine actor that he was, his façade remained strong as ever, not letting any discomfort get through. The last thing he needed was to show his weaknesses in front of those who will soon judge him for his decisions.

It was finally Monday, the day of the casting call. There were apparently enough dancers who wanted to be The Prince in Rachel's ballet. Kurt could see five guys standing at the entrance of the ballet room, some of them chatting, seemingly not anxious at all, and there was another small group of four guys stretching and fixing the others with expressionless faces. Kurt was barely containing himself, with the soft, constant thrumming under his skin and the faint buzz at the back of his head, because just looking at all of them made him tense. It was honestly like preparing to step on a battlefield. God knows he's seen enough metaphorical gore and bad blood between dancers in his time at the academy. And then there was the fact that he will have to choose one of them. A new wave of nauseating anxiousness rolled all over him. And Rachel still hasn't arrived.

_Where is that woman?_

After what seemed like ages, but were probably merely ten minutes, Rachel made her entrance, followed by two other young men, strikingly similar in appearance and shockingly handsome, both of them. Kurt didn't have much time to ponder over who they might be, because right then Rachel clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

"Hello, everyone! Please gather round. Ok, you're here for a reason. So let's get down to the real thing. Each and every one of you will have to perform the scene where the Prince meets the Swan for the first time. Make it good, make it convincing, and put everything you have into it. In the end, only one of you will get to be the Prince to the Swan over here."

Every eye in the room turned to look at Kurt. Never in his life had he felt so exposed. He damned Rachel and her theatrics. If he felt one pair of honey colored eyes linger on him, accompanied by a slight smirk, he gave it no thought.

And so, the music began. Kurt paid attention to every move, to every expression the dancers made, but he still felt like something was missing. Sure, their execution was perfect, their moves fluid, graceful, every step they made melted flawlessly into the next. But they were too focused on executing their moves than letting their emotions seep into the movement. By the sixth performance, Kurt was disappointed. There were only four guys left, and that would be it. Kurt would have to make his choice.

The two dancers, those who appeared to be brothers, were the last to perform. The taller one was infinitely better than the rest, confident, almost cocky in his movements, throwing piercing looks in Kurt's direction, causing him to fidget. It was obvious he was trying to impress. The thing is that he was actually good at it. When he finished, he smiled mischievously at Kurt, as to show that he was certain of his victory.

The smaller one, with curly, bouncing hair, rolled his eyes and stepped forward, meeting Kurt's eyes with a meaningful look, something similar to a challenge. And when he started dancing, Kurt stopped breathing. Every twitch of his muscles expressed something, emotions morphing into others, each time more powerful, but he always kept something confined, like the abortive twitches he made whenever he tried to reach something he thought was unattainable, or the flicker in his eyes, warmer than melted caramel, when he searched for Kurt's transfixed look. It was like watching passion in movement.

He was _it_, he was perfect.

_He is the_ _Prince_. Kurt thought, his heart constricting with joy and something else, that he couldn't name yet.

When the music stopped, Kurt let out a breath he wasn't aware of holding, feeling a bit drained out because of the force of the last performance. Rachel began talking again, but he paid her no mind, focusing solely on the smile playing on the face he watched like he was trapped in a dream. When a hand gripped his, he snapped out of his reverie, looking rather unfocusedly at Rachel, who was still talking, apparently now with him.

"Kurt, are you listening?"

"Yes." _No._

"So, what do you think? Have you decided on someone?"

It took a heartbeat, but Kurt replied, with a confident nod.

"Yes. The last performance was perfect. He is the one I choose."

"Oh, Blaine Anderson? Yes, I was impressed. But Cooper was good too. You know, he performed before Blaine. I think it's a tight score between them."

"Rachel, I want Blaine."

Kurt blushed at his own phrasing, but he didn't back down. Thankfully, Rachel didn't catch on the innuendo.

"Are you sure? This is important, Kurt, you must be sure."

"Rachel, I have never been surer of anything in my life. Blaine is perfect for the role."

"Ok, then. Blaine it is. I said I trust you with this, so if that's what you want, it's perfectly ok with me. And… I was thinking we could kill two birds with one stone, and choose some of the guys for the roles of the other swans. I think the third, fifth and seventh performances were better than the rest. They would fill the roles perfectly. Their execution was flawless. What do you say?"

Kurt nodded. It was a good idea. Rachel turned towards the dancers and smiled at them.

"Thank you all for coming. You did great, all of you. But, obviously, only one of you will get the role. So, what Kurt and I have decided is that… Blaine Anderson will be the Prince in the Swan Lake ballet. Please remain a few more minutes afterwards. And congratulations."

A loud yell surprised everyone, causing them to look at the two brothers, sitting somewhere away from the rest of the group. While the others were still disgruntled by the news, Cooper was grinning like a mad man, clapping Blaine on his back, who was mirroring his expression. When he saw Kurt looking at him, he simply winked, not losing his grin.

_Are you serious? Did he honestly just wink at me?_ Kurt was gobsmacked. He never flirted with any dancers, since all the guys he knew either hated him because he was competition, or ignored his existence, given that he was gay. But winking at someone was considered flirting, right? Even more so, without any reservation. Kurt made sure he didn't betray any kind of emotion, and averted his eyes, looking at Rachel instead.

"I would also like to talk with Mike, Chandler and Adam, so please stay for a few more minutes. The rest of you are free to go. Thank you again for coming and for your effort."

While the room was emptying, Blaine started walking towards him. Kurt straightened himself, preparing for whatever was to come. The final step made him realize that Blaine was shorter than him by a few inches.

"Hello, I'm Blaine Anderson."

_At least he's polite._

Kurt took his extended hand, feeling a blush threatening to appear on his face. He hated clichés, but he really felt that electric shiver running down his spine at the simple touch of Blaine's hand, which was broad and incredibly warm; his handshake was strong and confident, just like the rest of him.

"Kurt Hummel, nice to meet you."

Rachel was talking with the other three guys, her voice sounding thrilled, but Kurt couldn't pay attention to nothing else other than the boy in front of him. When the silence threatened to become uncomfortable, Kurt took a deep breath and looked Blaine straight in the eye. His knees felt a bit weaker, but he figured it must be from the nerves and the relief to have found someone so good for the role.

"So, Blaine, your performance was extraordinary. I was a bit surprised, to be honest, but you were wonderful indeed. I'm looking forward to start our rehearsals. I can definitely learn some things from you."

"Sure thing, handsome. I'm keen on sharing, so I guess we're good. There are plenty of things we could learn together." Again, the cocky attitude and that annoying smirk.

Kurt spluttered, losing his metaphorical footing.

"Excuse me?"

_Where's the bitch talk when you need it, Hummel?_

"Please tell me you're not some innocent prude, Kurt. Flirting never hurt anyone. I hope you'll loosen up soon, though. You don't strike me as the boring, uptight type."

There was something sharp on Kurt's tongue, but he didn't have the time to spit it, because Rachel joined them.

"When will we start rehearsing?" Blaine's face was the epitome of innocence. The change was disturbing, to say the least.

"Excellent question, Blaine! I see you're enthusiastic about everything, something I appreciate greatly! By the way, I'm Rachel."

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"He knows that, Rachel."

Kurt shot her a dirty glare, which she pointedly ignored in favor of grinning at Blaine. With all her teeth. _Ugh_. He returned his attention to Blaine, although more warily, who was apparently unfazed by her craziness.

"We can begin next week, meeting after classes or in the mornings, whenever you have time."

"Ok, that's perfect. So, should I give you my number, handsome? Or should we play hide and seek until next week and see if you gather the nerve to ask it from me? Or maybe for a coffee date? In fact, we do need to get to know each other."

Kurt swallowed, feeling another blush rising in his cheeks. Though this time, he managed to pull the _bitch glare_, with the eyebrow raised and everything.

_What is it with me today?_

"My name is Kurt. You should learn to use it. And your number is just fine for now. Here."

And he handed him his phone, trying to ignore Rachel's raised brow and pointed stare. He wasn't that obvious, right? An instant infatuation was nothing wrong, even if Blaine seemed too condescending for his own good. Indeed, he was handsome, gorgeous really, but that was never enough for Kurt. Something about Blaine drew him in, but he couldn't quite put his finger on whatever made him tingly inside whenever he looked into those hazel eyes. When Blaine returned him the phone, their fingers brushed, but with intention, as if Blaine wanted to gauge Kurt's reaction.

Kurt didn't even bat an eyelash.

"For now, as in, there might be a coffee date later, or…?"

"You know where the door is, Blaine. See you next week."

Blaine puffed, but turned to leave nonetheless, however not without a mock salute to Kurt and a simple wave to Rachel, who, traitorous friend that she was, she returned it with a smile. If there was a happy bounce in Blaine's step, Kurt chose not to see it.

He turned to stab Rachel with a glare.

"What the heck, Rachel? First, you are not allowed to fraternize with him, and second, you are not allowed to mock me silently while I'm having a very embarrassing match with him!"

"Oh, come on. Kurt, you must admit, that boy had you right where he wanted! I've never seen you like that, you usually dissect anyone who would try that with you, with your skillful, sharp tongue. But now that bitchy vocabulary bailed on you."

"Look here, Berry, I –"

"A word of advice, Kurt…"

Rachel winked at him, with a knowing expression on her face.

"Try not to fall for him." And then she left, with a final kiss on his cheek.

* * *

**If anyone has any opinions or words of advice, feel free to tell me! **


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